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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28735074">2 More Days.</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/punkmommyissues/pseuds/punkmommyissues'>punkmommyissues</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Childhood Trauma, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Sort Of, author projecting onto tsukishima kei, vent - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 12:54:30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>954</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28735074</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/punkmommyissues/pseuds/punkmommyissues</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“And the days all blend together now<br/>I'd say what's wrong but I don't know how<br/>There's something crawling in the walls<br/>Still I'll crawl in bed and forget you all<br/>And I'm thinking about what you said<br/>That you can have alonetime when you're dead”</p><p>- You Can Have Alonetime When You're Dead, Remember Sports</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>2 More Days.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tsukishima has been staring at the ceiling for hours. He can't stop thinking about <em>it</em>. The screaming, the horrible insults, the bruises. It's been years but it still keeps him up at night. It's not rare for him to have insomnia because of it, but tonight it's really pushing it.</p><p>The physical scars are long gone, emotionally they still loom in every crevice of Kei's body. He's tired of distracting the anger with sadness. It never really worked anyway.<br/><br/></p><p>In one of the instances where it did work, Kei was sitting in the shower for hours. Bathing in self hatred<em>, literally.</em> He scrubbed for hours but he still felt dirty, disgusting, impure. No matter how much it made his skin burn red he never got anything out of it. The feeling stayed. Their touch, the pain, the unwilling sensation. His memory was fuzzy, but the feeling was still crisp.</p><p>Kei shut his eyes and bit his lip trying to forget for just a bit.</p><p>
  <em>What if they're gonna do it again? Of course they will. People don't change. You know this.</em>
</p><p>His body tensed as various thoughts pilled into his head.</p><p>
  <em>Fuck.</em>
</p><p>Just as he was about to stand up and go to the bathroom, to try to get himself out of his nightmare, his stomach made an awfully loud noise.</p><p>
  <em>Oh, right.</em>
</p><p>He hasn't had a proper meal in five days. God, that thought alone scares him. He never wanted this. Why him out of all the people? What did he do to deserve this? He's shed so much blood, sweat and tears in his lifetime. And he's only 16.</p><p>When Kei was little, he prayed to god every night not to turn out like this.</p><p>Sad, hurt, starving, lonely, <em>gay.</em></p><p>Looking back on it, it's funny how foolish he was, since he didn't even believe in god in the first place.</p><p>Kei stood up in a sudden and opened his door. As he stepped outside into the hallway he felt a shiver down his spine. Since he was laying in bed for so long the outside air was freezing cold to him. He walked down the stairs, trying to avoid the creaky steps.</p><p>Tsukishima didn't really had much of an appetite, he never ate full meals. That is, he never ate full meals before 2AM. In all honesty, it was probably his consciousness telling him he should eat, or maybe, I don't know, he was just not mentally ill deep into the night? Yet again, no mental healthy person stays up till they hear the neighbours roosters just so they can feel something.</p><p>The kitchen tiles were cold and... sticky? It caught Kei off guard at first, then he heard a loud snore coming from the living room. His father had been passed out on the couch since yesterday.</p><p>He approached the fridge, slowly opening it. It had a tendency of squealing late at night.</p><p>To his surprise, the fridge was completely empty. Well, except a half drunken can of Pepsi that expired last week.</p><p>Kei stood in shock. The dim light inside the fridge gracing over his skin.</p><p>“Oh yeah, I'm at dad's place”, he said in a raspy tone whilst closing the refrigerator door. His father oftentimes "forgot" to buy food per se. In truth, he was just greedy and didn't want to buy food until it was too late.</p><p>“For fuck's sake”, Kei flinched as his unconscious father snored like a chainsaw in the dead of the night.</p><p>“2 more days.”, he promised himself.</p><p>
  <em>2 more days.</em>
</p><p>He walked back to his room, barely holding himself up. His head felt like it was about to fall off any second.</p><p>Kei sighed as he entered his room once more. This wasn't actually his room, it was his brother's. But since his brother has cut off his father completely, it's Kei's room now<em>. I should probably cut him off too</em>, he thought to himself. It wouldn't be a bad idea, but he knows his mother would never let him do that.</p><p>Kei huffed as he sat on the bed. He felt... defeated. He doesn't know what defeated him but it hurt like a <em>bitch.</em></p><p>Looking down at his thighs, he felt a tug in his chest. He was wearing shorts so his legs were partially exposed to the moonlight peering through the window.</p><p>His palm brushed across his left thigh.</p><p>“Still there.”, he reassured.</p><p>Kei hummed, almost like he was replying to himself.</p><p>The scars weren't necessarily a bad thing. Kei liked to think that they act as a reminder of what he's been through. Tiny, little specks all across his thighs and legs. Scattered. Overlapped. Painfully obvious.</p><p>He remembers the first time he did it. He was sitting on his desk chair, razor in hand, blood gushing out of his silky skin. He was <em>twelve.</em> No twelve year old should feel a so terrible that they turn to slicing their skin open with their mother's razor.</p><p>Speaking of which, he also remembers the last time he did it. 10 months ago, in the bathroom with a pair of awfully sharp sewing scissors. It still hurts. The feeling is still there. The stingy feeling. The way it felt sour. The way the cold air hit his warm blood. <em>Terryfing.</em></p><p>Before he knew it, blazing hot tears started bawling out of his eyes. You wouldn't expect this, but Kei's is a incredibly loud crier. He didn't cry a lot, so it was a given to be loud when he did.</p><p>-</p><p>Tsukishima doesn't know what happened that night. All he knows is that he's glad that he fell asleep before his father could see his sissy little son cry over some faded scars.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>this is...... very self indulgent lmao</p></blockquote></div></div>
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